Try and Fail
by SoupSpecial
Summary: The one where Bilbo ends up in one of the most prestigious Universities in Middle Earth. Mostly against his will. Apparently he's also a member of the rugby team, which is entirely against his will. University AU, slow-built thilbo. And many a dwarf bonding. T for now, may change later on.
1. An unexpected Party

Okay so this is my first fanfic ever, but I won't be asking for people to be nice. Anyway. Just thought I'd take a stab at some University AU with some Bilbo and (not)dwarf bonding, but mostly with You know who. **Hint: He's a certain hot prince. **Anyway, I hope someone enjoys/reads this. It's what I've come up with over the break. I may do more if people like it.

* * *

Bilbo always knew he was small. He also enjoyed cooking and watching television with hashbrowns and tea in front of him. Bilbo also knew he was terrible at sports and athletics, mostly due to his size. Because of that this he gave up on trying to impress throughout high-school. His parents only ever really cared about good grades and a clean nose, so naturally he stuck with sciences and math. And as it turns out, having no extra-curriculars help get you to one of the best schools in the country: Erebor. His parents couldn't have been prouder, and Bilbo couldn't be more terrified. He had never ventured out of the Shire suburbs, and Erebor was out east over the Misty Mountains. He tried to argue that residence was too expensive, but they insisted that with all of Bilbo's scholarships, he had basically gotten a free ride. So, much to Bilbo's consternation, the argument was over, and near the end of the summer and old family friend named Gandalf showed up to drive him and his worldly possessions to Erebor and help Bilbo move in.

Bilbo sighed against the Window of the grey truck, and Gandalf chuckled.

"Don't be so glum," he almost scoffed, "I thought you wanted to go to Erebor. You did apply, after all."

Bilbo fidgeted in his seat and glanced out at the forest they were traveling through, "I only did it to make my parents happy. " he tapped his toes and twiddled his thumbs nervously. Mirkwood was a huge forest that the two travelers needed to pass through in order to get to Erebor. The whole forest was capable of blotting out the sun and casting eerie shadows over the road. It made Bilbo nervous to say the least, as he always feared what he couldn't see in the darkness. "besides, I didn't think I'd actually get accepted."

Gandalf actually laughed this time, which ended in the older man throwing a coughing fit and nearly driving off of the road.

"Bilbo Baggins! I have always known about the greatness you have inside you, and everyone seems to be sure of it but you!" he scolded good-naturedly, but Bilbo just rolled his eyes. He had heard enough of _that _conversation.

"I don't belong in Erebor! I'm just Bilbo Baggins! I'm supposed to stay home and inherit my house from my parents! I have to. . . I have to. . ." Bilbo trailed off into silence after his outburst, only the quiet sound of him catching his breath in the almost silent vehicle. Gandalf looked ahead into the forest and shook his head, but said nothing.

They arrived at the university late in the afternoon, and after asking for directions twice, as well as a trip to the University Help Centre, Gandalf pulled into the residence area on campus. As they drove through the congested roads, Bilbo couldn't help but gawk.

Hundreds of kids, his age ore older, were carrying furniture and suitcases up stairs and through doorways. Everyone was laughing and smiling with excitement. At least, everyone but Bilbo.

Gandalf pulled up and parked next to a large, three-story condo with the name _Bag End_ plastered onto the door. The entire building was made of red brick, besides the door and Window frames, which were of wood. The paint job also made Bilbo wince. The wood was painted with the most hideous shade of hunter green he had ever seen. The doorknob also clashed, as the brass was rusted and chipping off.

Bilbo slid out of the passenger's seat and sighed heavily, somehow unable to tear his eyes off of his residence building. Gandalf handed him his suitcase and in return, Bilbo shot him an exasperated look. Gandalf rolled his eyes and beckoned Bilbo to follow him. Both of them climbed the stairs, and Bilbo fumbled with his key card to open the door.

Luckily, his name was posted on the first door to the left of the entrance, the printed name on a pink sticky note spelled _Billy Baggins. _Bilbo didn't read the other name below his, as he was too nervous to stand still long enough. He quickly jiggled the doorknob until it opened and almost fell into the room behind it. Gandalf was only able to catch him by the collar of his shirt and haul him onto his feet.

The flat was bigger than he thought it would be, complete with a kitchen, bathroom and living room. The living room was equipped with a cheap looking ikea couch and armchair surrounding a coffee table. The entire space had white carpets, and the kitchen's floor was laminate and boring.

"Hello?" Bilbo called, walking towards the back of the flat, where he found two bedrooms and a linen closet. Both rooms were identical, and held a bare bed, night stand and empty closet.

He dropped his suitcase onto the floor and turned to Gandalf.

"We forgot the hangars." He huffed, and Gandalf shrugged dismissively, depositing a pillow and set of sheets onto the bed.

"Maybe he hasn't arrived yet." Gandalf suggested.

Bilbo scoffed, "Well, then he's terribly late." he then worried at the hem of his shirt and went to the kitchen. Inside was a small refrigerator, a stove, and sink. The cabinets were painfully empty. Bilbo peered from the door frame, almost appalled, "we have to go get groceries."

The next few hours consisted of Bilbo and Gandalf moving in and then leaving to collect groceries. The two of them returned with an entire fridge full of food, along with some soup cans and hangers. The bed was then made, clothing hung and everything wiped down until it was spotless. Bilbo even had time to make himself dinner after Gandalf had left to check into a hotel.

Bilbo sighed contentedly as he sat in front of his full plate. He took pride in the efficiency of which he had been able to set up his new home. Bilbo looked about and smiled at his good work, he was so caught up in the moment he barely heard the knock at the door.

Bilbo made an exasperated sound as he stood and hurried to the door. Upon opening it, his face fell in disappointment. A man with broad shoulders and muscled arms in a black shirt eyed him expectantly.

Bilbo blinked, "Um,"

"Dwalin." the man growled roughly and pushed past him and through the door. Bilbo stood frozen in place and pursed his lips, brow furrowed . He was only interrupted by a loud roar from the kitchen.

Bilbo visibly jumped and rushed back to the kitchen, imagining a worst-case scenario that involved a broken plate. Instead, he saw Dwalin seated at the table, wolfing down the dinner Bilbo had prepared himself.

"'S good. " the intruder grunted through a mouthful. Bilbo pursed his lips once more and bit his tongue, trying not to get annoyed at the man's awful table manners. He was going to politely ask this new student what he was doing here when a knock at the door stopped him.

Thinking that it was Gandalf, Bilbo stormed down the hall to the doorway and flung it open. Instead of the tall grey familiar face, a shorter man somewhat resembling his other visitor smiled at him.

"Balin." he shook Bilbo's hand politely and wandered into the flat, laughing and roughly exchanging a greeting with Dwalin. Bilbo was too dazed at first to notice that the two friends had found the fridge and cupboards, but then heard the clanging of pots and snapped out of it.

The two were muttering to themselves quietly as Bilbo snuck in, wringing his hands.

"Um," Bilbo squeaked, vying desperately for their attention, "now I know that we're all really excited for school and all, but. . . Um. . . I've just moved in, but. . . I don't mean to be rude. But, I'm sorry." Bilbo blinked at the two men taking, and noticed that neither of the two were paying any attention to the flustered host, "Um, excuse me?"

Both of the intruders slowly turned and Bilbo shrunk under their gaze. Their faces and body language intimidated him to no end, though the two said nothing.

"Um, well, never mind." Bilbo waved his arms curtly and flushed pink, and the two men continued unloading the cupboards without hesitation. Bilbo was about to protest with an excuse of money trouble, but there was another knock at the door. The noise made him jump, but he scuttled off to the door once more. He winced as he opened it, praying to God that it was there man that was two visitors late of an explanation.

When he opened his eyes he almost sagged, as two more unfamiliar faces smiled at him expectantly.

"I'm Fili," The blonde one rocked on his heels excitedly.

"and I'm Kili" the darker haired one giggled, looking up at the taller man, "The Durin brothers,_ at your service._" the last portion was spoken by the two of them in unicine, the two giving curt nods before pushing past Bilbo and wiping their feet on the carpet.

"Ah! Dwalin and Balin are here!" one of the two roared from the kitchen.

"I can't wait until the others get here!" the other laughed heartily.

The comment barely registered in Bilbo's already befuddled mind. He turned towards the kitchen with wide eyes and an overall shocked look on his face, "O-others?" he managed to sputter, and he heard the clanging of plates once more. He was just about to bustle back to the kitchen and abjure the use of cutlery and dishes, but the knock at the door interrupted him once more.

He was halfway between scolding and cursing when he was cut off by a group of people faceplanting onto his doormat, with Gandalf chuckling softly behind the moaning group.

His company all stood with a clamour and loud laughter, everyone seeming to be yelling at each other, including Bilbo, but there was too much going on for Bilbo to register what they were saying. All the small host could do was stare at Gandalf, and the smirk on his face was more than enough information to know who was responsible.

There were shouts from the kitchen, and Bilbo saw that most of the space (including the counters) were taken up by visitors and plates of food. One particularly large man had made off with an entire tub of ice cream, and Dwalin had somehow produced a fair amount of liquor. Loud laughter erupted from the menu and Bilbo suddenly felt very small and out of place amongst the crowd. Gandalf also sat and laughed gently, but decided to hold off on the feast before him.

Bilbo, at a loss for words, could only watch as the entire company devoured his entire kitchen. The lot of them took a swig from their beers and cheered merrily, but Bilbo politely refused when offered. What irked him the most about the whole lot was the fact that none of them said please or thank you, they were also too boisterous and rowdy for his taste, as if everything was somewhat funny.

When the group was full, the lot of them washed the dishes and piled them neatly on the table. Bilbo stood dumbstruck in the doorway of the small kitchen, a look of complete astonishment on his face. Gandalf chuckled at the smaller students reaction, who merely glared daggers at the older man.

By this time, Bilbo had built up enough courage to implore the meaning of this party and to kindly get out, if you don't mind. Before he could even draw a breath, a strong knock at the door caused the room to quiet. Gandalf raised an eyebrow at him and Bilbo cursed, being cautious as he opened the door. He nervously peered out from behind the door frame and sighed with relief.

The man standing before him was a whole foot taller than him, with a thick neck and broad shoulders. His toned arms were crossed over his chest as he glared at Bilbo, puffing up dominantly and widening his stance.

"Sorry I'm late." the Scottish lilt rolled off of his tongue as he held out his hand, which Bilbo took gently. The great paw engulfed Bilbo's own easily as the stranger nearly shook him off of the mat. "Thorin Oakenshiled. I guess everyone's already eaten?" Bilbo nodded and stepped back behind the door as Thorin stepped in confidently. The rest of the company greeted the newcomer with a little more respect than they had each other, Bilbo was surprised.

"So, this is our scrummy, Gandalf?" Thorin asked, allowing his eyes to flick over Bilbo, who merely blinked and glanced from side to side.

Gandalf smiled, "Why yes, Thorin, I'm sure he'd be the appropriate choice."

Bilbo widened his eyes as panic set in, "Um, no. I'm not a scrumhalf, I actually can't play rugby! Terribly violent, much to difficult for me! I - uh. . . School's-" the company stared as Bilbo tried to sputter excuses, and Kili turned to Gandalf with a smirk on his face.

"Well, he certainly is small enough." a couple others grunted in agreement. "You ever play before?" he then asked Bilbo quietly.

"No! Never! Not in my life!" Bilbo blurted hurriedly, almost as if he were panicking. He only stopped when the Thorin held up a hand to quiet him. He looked to Gandalf, who shrugged quietly, and then he faced Bilbo once more. Thorin opened his mouth to speak, but seemed to decide against it, shaking his head slightly.

"Well," he turned to the group of kitchen-invaders, "at least you can all help me move in." the room erupted with cheers and the entire group pushed past Bilbo.

Bilbo stood in a daze for a moment, the silence almost deafening in the ruined kitchen.

"M-move in?" he squeaked at Gandalf, who smiled softly and guided Bilbo to the doorway yet again. The first name was still spelled horribly wrong, and Bilbo reminded himself that he would have to complain later. But just underneath his name, a sticky note was attached hurriedly just under it, where a name was proudly scrawled in thick letters.

_Thorin Oakenshield_

Bilbo groaned and sagged into Gandalf's grip, feeling weak at the knees.

"I think you should get to sleep." he grumbled and helped Bilbo to his freshly made bed and pulled the covers over him. Bilbo closed his eyes and nuzzled into his pillow, scoffing as he heard the dull clamour of too many people in his flat.

"Scrumhalf."

* * *

Well, I see that you read it.

_See, that wasn't too painful, was it?_

_Meh. Hope you guys have a fun time back at school this week, I'm off to hide in a corner and weep soulfully. Make sure I know to write more, I'd hate to think I'm as invisible on here as I am in real life!_


	2. Good Morning

_**first things first, I have to say that all my anon and not anon reviews/comments were wonderful, and you all deserve a platonic hug of gratitude. **seriously. Thanks. _

_This one seems a bit short to me, but I promise I'll be quick with the next one. I think some rugby action is due, no?_

* * *

Sun shone through his blinds, forming horizontal patterns across the room as he awoke. For a moment, Bilbo stiffened, having forgotten where he was. He sighed and stretched, groaning as he sat up and looked around. The room seemed colder when it was this silent, somehow not living up to the first impression he had with the flat yesterday.

He pulled on a striped jumper and black jeans, not bothering with socks or a belt. There was still a week until school stared, before then he didn't need to get into the habit of dressing properly. Bilbo always had to look right and present himself well, he had his family name to uphold, after all.

He rubbed his eyes as he padded to the kitchen, silently checking whether his guests had stayed or not. He peeked through the doorway, kneading and wringing his hands nervously as he went. Once he saw that not only was the kitchen empty, but that it was spotless, he sighed in relief. The rest of the flat was also empty, albeit some new knick-knacks probably belonging to Thorin.

Bilbo groaned as he remembered the night before. A rugby player like him, using his dishes and snoring and tracking mud on his carpet and using his shower, the thought made Bilbo bristle. He then wondered if the entire event had been a dream, some sick and twisted nightmare brought upon by stress and working too hard. Bilbo disproved this idea when he opened the fridge and cupboards to find them empty.

"I'll get breakfast." a low, groggy voice made Bilbo start and turn to see Thorin toeing on his shoes. He was wearing a pair of sweat pants that rode _very_ low on his hips, along with a tight black T-shirt that made his biceps look obscene. He also hadn't shaved, which annoyed Bilbo for some reason.

"Um-" Bilbo's protests were cut short when Thorin's bright, proud eyes met his. He felt all of his thoughts leave his brain and pool at his cheeks, settling as a hot blush. All Bilbo could do was swallow and rock back gently on his heels, quickly averting his gaze. "W-what was all that about being a scrimmy?"

"Scrummy" Thorin jingled his keys next to his thigh.

"Oh."

"Gandalf told us you'd make a good one." Thorin's gaze kept on Bilbo, almost judgemental. Bilbo visibly shrank at his voice.

"Well, I've never really played before, but I've seen a couple of games and it looks really scary. Um, no offense. There were people carried off the field with broken noses and, um, other injuries. It looks really rough, b-but if you need someone. . ." Bilbo trailed off, cheeks even hotter than they were before. Thorin only nodded.

"You want Chinese?" his keys jingled again.

"Well, I can hardly consider-"

The door closing firmly cut Bilbo off midscentence, leaving him to fume silently in the small flat. Bilbo turned on the kettle and muttered to himself about manners and people growing up in caves, but after his tea he felt a little better. He even washed his cup before returning it to its rightful place next to the bowls.

Thorin returned about fifteen minutes later with small takeout boxes and chopsticks. He sat across from Bilbo and slid the box with chopsticks over. Bilbo could feel the taller man's eyes on him as he fumbled to open the box.

"So," Thorin began, using his huge hands to pry open his own container, "tell me what you already know."

Bilbo blinked, mouth half full of noodles, "What I know?"

Thorin sighed and fixed Bilbo with another annoyed look. The man had a very imposing personality, and Bilbo almost hid under the table from his gaze, "Rugby? Ever heard of it?"

"Oh!" Bilbo choked out, he chewed and swallowed the contents of his mouth, then took a breath, "Well, I know that there's a scrum, and a bunch of the players bend over and push each other around. Then someone puts the ball in the middle."

"You do." Thorin's low voice cut in.

"What?"

Another sigh, "The scrummie rolls the ball into the scrum."

Bilbo paused for a moment, "Right. Well, after that, the same person gets the ball out and passes it to someone on the left or right, depending on their field position."

"That's me."

Bilbo pursed his lips and cocked his head to the side.

Thorin leaned over his breakfast, getting even closer to Bilbo than he wished, "I'm your flyhalf, the scrumhalf almost always passes toe ball to the flyhalf. I make the plays and sometimes kick."

Something about the way Thorin said _I'm your flyhalf_ made Bilbo blush furiously, he subconsciously bit his lips and fidgeted in his chair. "I- um," Bilbo cleared his throat after his voice cracked and slid down in his seat slightly, "Well, I also know that you can't pass forward. Nothing but backwards. And the kicker also has to be in front of everyone before they can move forward."

Thorin leaned back again and nodded, running his hand over his face and scratching his stubble. "You know anything about lineouts?" he rumbled solemnly.

"Not really," Bilbo wrung his hands to keep them from trembling, "is it when the ball goes out?"

Thorin rolled his eyes once more and stabbed at his food, "You'll learn at practice today."

Bilbo blinked, struck dumb, dropping his chopsticks into his massacred meal. "Umm, what was that? Because I thought you just said-"

"Practice, at two. It's mandatory for the first one." Thorin slurped up the last of his noodles and crushed the box, letting some of the juice dribble onto the table. His lips turned up into a somewhat satisfied sneer, and he looked back to Bilbo, and shrugged gruffly "What?"

"I don't even have a decent pair of trainers!" he scoffed, "and I hardly think that I'm someone who you'll want on the team. I am far to delicate, and I can hardly run or lift half of my weight! I once tried to play football and nearly broke my ankle! I'd also be falling all over the place. When I try to run, it's like I have huge duck feet! I can't possibly-"

"Bilbo." Thorin's tone alone shut him up. The low growl was more than enough to let Bilbo know he was done with talking. Bilbo sat back, wide eyed, and let Thorin continue.

"If you put as much energy you have with talking into sports, I think you'd make a half-decent player." Thorin almost sneered when Bilbo's face turned bright red and he tried to babble an apology.

"It's fine," Thorin stood and tossed the remains of his meal into the trash, "So long as I take you shopping." Bilbo's face reddened even further at this.

"What-I-um-well-"

"There's a sportcheck a few blocks from here over on Dale street. You could probably get all your equipment from there."

Bilbo's shoulders sagged almost in relief. He stood and closed his unfinished box of food. Thorin leaned up against the table and watched as Bilbo hurried to put away the rest of his meal. Bilbo was panicking a little bit, partly because he knew that Thorin's eyes were on him, but mostly because he would have to push past said roommate in order to throw his chopsticks into the trash and escape. His ears throbbed as he cleared his throat, hurrying to pass through. Bilbo tried to ignore the heat his right arm felt when he allowed it to brush against Thorin's chest, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when a low chuckle rumbled behind him.

"I'm not going to eat you." Thorin's eyes sparkled as Bilbo turned to face him. All Bilbo could do was laugh nervously and scurry off to find a pair of socks. Once safely in his room, he absently fixed his mess of loose curls in the mirror for a moment before slipping on his shoes. He took one deep breath and emerged from his hiding place. Thorin already had his shoes on and was out the door before Bilbo could catch up to him.

Bilbo shut the door gently and scurried over to Thorin's side, nearly tripping down the steps in order to keep up. Thorin led him through the busy street into an even busier parking lot. There he opened the door to a red ford Ranger, and ushered Bilbo to take shotgun.

The truck rumbled to life and sped out of the lot, Thorin not wasting any time between lights. Bilbo stiffened and tightly grasped his seat, heart racing. If Thorin noticed Bilbo's plight, he paid no attention, and continued driving.

The ride was silent, the only sound was Bilbo's quiet sigh once Thorin pulled in and parked inside the mall. Thorin quickly glanced at Bilbo before shoving his keys into his pocket.

They entered through the food court, which was packed with new students or young kids trying to get the last of their summer holiday in. Bilbo recognized a few people that he briefly met on campus, whom he waved to or smiled at. The smells and sounds were almost too much for him to handle, having never seen so many people in such a small place. He was about to turn to Thorin and exclaim his astonishment when his face fell.

Bilbo felt his breathing hitch when he realized that Thorin had disappeared. Bilbo's mind raced as he turned in circles, searching people's faces for his new friend, but finding nothing. He walked farther into the mall and through the food court, glancing into the stores quietly. He was about to walk back to the entrance when a gentle tug on his sleeve made Bilbo squeak and whirl around.

Thorin was looking down at him with a slightly annoyed expression on his face. Bilbo nearly flushed a deep purple and tried to sputter an apology.

"Try not to get lost." Thorin grumbled and pushed past Bilbo, quietly sighing to himself.

The Sportcheck was surprisingly empty when they arrived, and Thorin absently led time towards the clothing section like he owned the place. The staff greeted or smiled at him quietly as he passed, and Thorin nodded politely.

"You a size 30?" He asked dismissively as he picked out a pair of navy blue shorts and tossed them at Bilbo, who could do nothing but stare.

Thorin ended up buying Bilbo a mouthguard, socks, trainers, shorts, cleats, spandex and a practice jersey in less than fifteen minutes. Bilbo also noticed the way that the cashier giggled and blushed at him like a fourteen year old girl. Bilbo grew annoyed at her attentions and decided to not say thank you on the way out.

Bilbo checked the pricetags on his new items on his way home, and gaped at the amount of numbers. Of course, he knew that equipment was expensive, but the price for a pair of shorts shouldn't be above thirty dollars.

"Um, this is-"

"It's fine." Thorin grumbled, not bothering to look over at the smaller man.

"But this is a lot of-" Bilbo began to protest, but again Thorin cut him off.

"I said it's _fine." _he retorted again, with a sort of finality in his voice that made Bilbo quiver.

Thorin let Bilbo out in front of Bag End, keeping the car running.

"I'll meet you over on the field in an hour. Don't be late."

Bilbo stood on the sidewalk for a long moment after Thorin had driven away, wondering where and when in the world he had sinned badly enough to deserve what was happening to him.

* * *

_I know, short chapter is short and boring. I'm trying sexual tension but I can't seem to get it right. It's a new challenge that I'm trying to conquer. _

_Free cookies to someone who finds a little reference from another martin freeman role. ;)_

_Keep on reading, thanks so much for the support. _


	3. Roasted Scrumhalf

_So here's another, because I can. I hope people are sort of understanding the way rugby is played, because it is soooo confusing to explain without a demonstration. Y'all may have to look up some stuff to fully understand. Meh. Anyway, enjoy!_

* * *

Bilbo concluded that he had to be some dastardly thief or burglar in a past life to deserve this.

He had always worked hard and been polite, and he had never been into any serious trouble with the law, yet here he was getting mixed up in other people's business like it was his own. His thoughts continued as he climbed the steps up into Bag End, and he decided that he wouldn't go to practice tonight. He'd say he was sick and then explain how wrong Gandalf had been about the whole issue. He wasn't an athlete of any sort, let alone some ruffian scrumhalf on a university rugby team.

He opened the unlocked door to his flat and toed off his shoes. He hurriedly shut the door and sighed. He was going to find the rest of his breakfast when he heard movement inside of the apartment.

Bilbo froze, tiptoeing quietly to the end of the hallway where he could hear voices, though the words were muffled by Thorin's closed door. Bilbo didn't know what to do, and for a moment he contemplated calling the police. He only stopped grasping for his phone when a loud and familiar bark of laughter came from the room and the door opened.

"Ah! Bilbo!" Fili chuckled, rugby ball in hand, "We were wondering when you'd get back." Fili turned and Bilbo glanced into Thorin's room. Kili was jumping on an unmade bed, smiling innocently.

"Hey, Bilbo!" he grinned, calling for a pass from Fili, who ignored him.

The room had somehow become a disaster within the 24 hours Bilbo had known it. Clothes and papers were strewn all over the place, a suspiciously fresh pizza stain decorated the carpet, along with empty soda cans and a pair of muddy trainers. It took everything Bilbo had to keep himself from compulsively cleaning the entire room. Instead, he looked back to Fili.

"How did you two get a keycard for the building?" he inquired, pushing past Fili to attempt to maneuver around the scattered items in Thorin's room.

"Oh, we live across the hall," Kili smiled, catching a swift spinpass midair, "the door was unlocked, so we let ourselves in. Is Thorin with you?"

"No!" Bilbo snapped a little, but composed himself, "No, he isn't, but he said that practice is in less than an hour and-"

"There's pizza, if you like!" Fili picked up a box from under the bed and offered it to Bilbo.

"No, thank you." he grimaced and absently began folding the laundry on the floor and putting it away.

"We'll walk you to practice!" Kili all but shouted, and threw the ball at Fili.

Bilbo sighed and said nothing. He stared at Thorin's floor for a bit, and opted to just put everything on hangars. When he was done the laundry, he ordered the two intruders to throw out their garbage and to clean up their pizza stain. The brothers complied, though a little unhappy that Bilbo killed the fun. By the end of it, Thorin's room looked half decent.

Bilbo huffed proudly and admired his good work. He only had to yell at Kili once to get down from jumping on the freshly made bed, and the pizza stain was caught early enough to be all but invisible.

"Hey, Bilbo," Fili began, plunking down onto the couch, "you have a phone?" Bilbo nodded and took a moment to fish it out of his back pocket.

"Mine too!" Kili appeared behind Bilbo and snatched the phone from his hands, "You have Thorin's number yet?"

"Um, no." Bilbo fidgeted.

"Really? Because man, I thought that-"

"We should get going soon," Fili interrupted hurriedly, "wouldn't want to be late for practice." he then shared a look with his brother, and dragged Bilbo out the door before he could make an excuse.

The field was about fifteen minutes walking distance from the flat, and the entire time Bilbo was forced to put up with Fili and Kili's bickering. He was almost glad when they entered the changerooms.

There, he saw Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, Oin and Gloin, Balin greeted him with a smile, and Dwalin was in some sort of playful shouting match with Fili and Kili. Ori also waved gently at him, and Nori and Dori seemed to be late.

"Where's Thorin?" Bilbo quietly asked Balin as he shucked off his jumper.

Balin sat on a bench and began to lace up his cleats, "He came early, the captain always likes to take an extra ten minutes to warm up."

Bilbo nodded and continued changing, only needing help with stretching the tight jersey over his head, but after that he was ready to head out.

Thorin was setting up pilons with Gandalf in the Centre of my he field. Bilbo stared at Gandalf, somewhat surprised at his presence. Gandalf may have been a meddling old man but he usually didn't wait around to bask in everyone's happiness.

"Alright, two lines, let's see three laps today." Thorin yelled as the group reached the centre of the field. Thorin began to jog in front of the entire company, and from there Bilbo was roughly shoved into one of the lines and sent running down the field. At first the pace was slow, but soon picked up, and by the end Bilbo found himself a coughing and wheezing mess. He just about collapsed onto the grass as all the other members were merely breathing hard.

"Okay, line up! We're doing an active stretch today. High knees!" Thorin commanded, and the entire group lined up, Bofur even added an 'aye aye, cap'n'

After the warm-up came the drills. Any of which included catching a ball had Bilbo fumbling pitifully. Thorin was always the best, always finishing first but never letting up. His muscles flexed and eyes gleamed, his mouth would also curl upwards into an unkept smirk. Bilbo hadn't known what was so great about rugby until he saw Thorin play.

All the while, Gandalf watched from the side, giving pointers and scolding now and then for stupid mistakes.

"Alright, good hustle. How about some unapposed?" Gandalf's voice halted their drill, and Thorin nodded. Bilbo looked about as Thorin began assigning positions.

"Nori, Bifur, Gloin, I want a half a scrum on the opposing team. Oin, you play flyhalf, Fili's on wing." Everyone nodded and assumed their positions as Thorin gently led Bilbo to his spot with the ball.

"Wait for Ori to tap three times, then roll her in." Thorin murmured, patting Bilbo on the shoulder roughly. Gandalf also came to stand beside Bilbo, examining the scrum before him and acting as a sort of referee.

"Crouch." Gandalf yelled, and each member of the scrum redirect themselves.

"Touch." The props across from each other patted their shoulders, smirking.

"Pause." Ori looked at Bilbo and nodded.

"Engage." Bodies clashed together with rough grunts, both sided leaning on each other and scraping the turf for purchase. Bilbo's breathing hitched as he gripped the ball tightly, bending over and getting ready.

Ori's hand tapped thrice, and Bilbo's heart skipped a beat. He rolled the ball in straight, and watched as a leg darted out to hook the ball back behind the front row.

"Drive!" Dwalin roared from the back, and a series of grunts answered. Bilbo followed the ball to the end of the scrum, and the looked at Thorin, heart racing. He could barely see Thorin's reassuring nod before Dwalin presented the ball to Bilbo with the back of his cleats. Bilbo nervously grasped the ball, heaving as he lobbed it to Thorin.

Thorin sprinted into the catch, not wasting any time and spinning it to the right. Kili caught it on the wing, sprinting ahead of everyone. Bilbo fell in behind everyone, not wanting to get in the way.

The opposing team approached, forming a flat line that quickly ate up the distance between Biblo and the aggressors. For a half second he slowed down. Upon glancing at the ball-carrier, he caught a wicked smirk from both Fili and his brother as the two collided. Fili used all of his strength to drag his brother and the ball down with him.

"Ruck!" Dwalin yelled, pushing the other team off of the ball and leaving it for Bilbo.

"Backs left!" Bilbo heard Thorin shout as he quickly scrambled for the ball. He passed it to the left and at Thorin, who bobbled it for a moment but continued running. He shook off Nori and stumble, only falling to tough the ball down in the endzone.

The rest of the team cheered, and Thorin wiped the sweat from his brow, still heaving. Bilbo stood in awe of what he had just witnessed, only then realizing the burn and lack of oxygen in his lungs. Bilbo swayed slightly, feeling a bit light-headed. He looked to Thorin, who only smirked and told everyone to pack it in. Bilbo took a feeble step towards the captain, feeling dizzier with every growing second. He blinked for a moment, before finally falling to the ground, the world fading to black around him.

Bilbo awoke back in his own flat, with nothing but silence to instigate a massive headache. He was laying down on the rather uncomfortable couch, with a glass of water and aspirin bottle on the coffee table beside him. He sat up slowly and feebly grabbed for the bottle before swallowing two pills instead of one, just for good measure. Once he had gulped down the pills he noticed that he was wearing a foreign pair of pajamas, along with a baggy t-shirt that smelled a little like something familiar.

Bilbo felt his face heat up and his intestines twist into knots when he realized what the smell was. It was Thorin. He was wearing _Thorin's _pajamas. And _someone _changed him into said pajamas. He stiffed and covered his mouth with his hand, trying to resist the urge to bury himself in a cemetery and be done with life already. His eyes widened as he gripped his new pants tightly, knuckles going white. Thorin had taken him home, _taken his clothes off, _and all but put him to bed. Thank god he was still wearing his boxers, but Bilbo took pride in being a prude. He was about to sprint to the bathroom and have a shower when voices interest kitchen stopped him.

"You saw him today at practice! He fainted from exhaustion!" the low rumbled Thorin's voice made Bilbo blush.

"I did see him at practice, Thorin Oakenshield, and that is precisely why I think we should keep him." Gandalf's wise voice was quiet, but accusatory, "We already need one more, I don't think beggars can be choosers at this point." there was a long paused after, and Bilbo could almost hear the tension.

"I can't guarantee his safety."The low voice warned.

"I understand." Gandalf nearly choked out.

With that, Bilbo heard the chairs scraping, and he stood, nearly tipping over the correct table undoing so. Gandalf quickly said his goodbyes to both of them before leaving. The door punctuated Gandalf's absence, and the flat was silent once more.

"You're up," Thorin stated solemnly, jamming his hands into his pockets, "how's the head?"

"Fine!" Bilbo said a little too loudly, "you know, a little sore, but I'll live." Bilbo avoided Thorin's gaze, who seemed be glaring at him angrily. Bilbo's phone buzzed, and he jumped to get it.

He had ten messages, the majority of which were Fili and Kili inquiring about how he was feeling. He sent a 'fine, thank you.' to the two of them and smiled at their concern.

"Who's that?" Thorin asked, sitting on the couch and fixing his eyes on Bilbo once more.

"Fili and Kili." Bilbo answered cooly, not looking up from his phone. He heard Thorin shift uncomfortably and hum a response.

"When did they get your number?" He asked, tone changing to something less casual. Bilbo shifted uncomfortably, feeling Thorin's eyes on him.

"This afternoon. They came over when we were out. I made them clean your room."

"I noticed." Thorin growled as he stood, and stopped a foot away from Bilbo. Bilbo immediately stopped texting, but couldn't bring himself to look away from the screen. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. It was so loud, Thorin must hear it too, sense how nervously he was. Before Bilbo could say of do anything, Thorin took the phone and pressed a few buttons, only handing it back when his number had been cataloged correctly. Biblo blinked at the device in his hands as Thorin stalked off to his room without a word, closing the door to his room a little too loudly.

Bilbo sighed and decided to think nothing of it. Thorin was usually a grumpy person, so of course he'd be mad at Bilbo about messing up at practice and touching his things, and not asking for Thorin's number. He shrugged and downed the last of his water, deciding to go take a shower. He only startled a little when the pipes rattled, but other than that the water was fine. He washed the sweat and worry from his hair and turned the heat up, hoping to get his stiff muscles to relax slightly.

Once he was finished, he absently grabbed a towel from the rack and tied it around his waist. Bilbo slid the curtain open and shook the water from his hair, rubbing the water from his eyes as he stepped out of the shower. Bilbo stopped as soon as he set his foot onto the floor and opened his eyes. Thorin was standing at the sink in nothing but his boxers, with a foamy razor in his left hand. He was also glaring daggers at Bilbo.

Bilbo suddenly felt every drop of water on his body, his hair was stuck to his head and neck, his skin tingled slightly, "Sorry." he muttered, though he didn't know why.

Thorin wiped his face clean and handed the towel to Bilbo, who took it and used it to dry his hair silently. Once satisfied, he neatly hung the towel in the rack and faced Thorin again, who was still standing at the sink quietly, "Thanks."

Thorin watched a bead of water travel from Bilbo's collarbone down to the towel on his hips. He cleared his throat and blinked for a moment.

"Sorry." he mumbled quietly, scratching at his now smoother chin. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead he merely wiped his hands on his navy boxers and walked to his room. Bilbo heard the door click almost silently.

Bilbo flushed a bright pink and fumbled to close the bathroom door and pull on the neatly folded pajamas he had worn earlier. He bit his tongue at the whiskers Thorin had left in the sink, and turned the water on to wash them away. Bilbo then brushed his teeth quickly and sprinted to his bedroom, not wanting to have to bump into Thorin again. He hid his face in his pillow and groaned loudly.

As if this was his life.

* * *

_Yeeey, another one in the bank. I won't be updating this frequently, I just felt bad for having written two full chapters and not uploading them right away. Anyway, enjoy. I'm still not sure if I have the sexual tension down pat, but I'm trying. (let's play spot the cliches!) anybody else spot a cheesy reference? :D Thanks for the love, guys, it means the world to me. _


	4. A Short Rest

_Hey guys, I'm just going to leave this here, sorry if it was a little late. School is making me cry a bit. Anyway, you may find this chapter ends a little abruptly, mostly because I couldn't find a way to not make it short humongous. Well, whatever, enjoy!_

* * *

A few days passed without incident. Bilbo discovered a laundromat in the basement, and had managed to wrestle with the large machines long enough to get some loads in. Thorin was either shut in his room or 'out' with friends, most of which were members of the Rugby team. Bilbo was also invited along, but was always far too busy with stocking the refrigerator and admiring the cleanliness of his little cavern. Without the interruptions of the outside world or the pestering of an overbearing flat-mate, Bilbo slipped into a lazy routine. He would wake up, make grape jam on toast with tea, read the newspaper and then send various e-mails to his family and friends back home.

Bilbo was quiet but fussy, and even a bit haughty at times, so he never found himself capable of acquiring good friends. He valued more the knowledge and gossip around town, having an inner competitive side driving him to know everyone's name and business. This nosy characteristic was normal for The Shire, and immediately had put him at odds with Lobelia, the social butterfly of the small suburbs. She was obviously jealous of Bilbo's abundant social life and good grades, and couldn't bring herself to forgive him for it before he left. Bilbo absently thought of her poking at a small voodoo doll with curly blonde hair, making it endure loud company and play sports. He smiled fondly as he thought of home.

It was nine o'clock when Thorin stumbled into the kitchen, pulling on a sweatshirt. Bilbo merely raised his eyebrows and peered over at him from the safety of his laptop, "You're up early." he stated quietly.

Thorin glanced at him briefly as he pulled open the cupboards, wrenching a package of pop-tarts from their box before gathering his books, "I'm late." he grumbled in a groggy voice.

"Late for what?" Bilbo asked, standing and pushing his chair in neatly.

"English."

Something grabbed Bilbo in the pit of his stomach and twisted. Class. He had class today.

More importantly, he had _english _class today.

His mouth went dry and he struggled to speak, he wrung his hands and scuttled about, stuffing things into his bag and pulling a pair of socks on. If a Baggins was anything, a Baggins was never late!

"Are you in the old building?" Bilbo panicked, finally stuffing his laptop into his backpack and shoving a pair of shoes on his feet.

Thorin merely grunted a reply as he opened his he door. Bilbo could now roughly translate it into a 'yes.'

The two jogged across the street and almost got run over twice, Thorin slowed to a walk multiple times in order to let Bilbo catch up. They both entered the building at a brisk walk, and had to climb a few flights of stairs before sprinting to their classroom. The run had left Bilbo a sputtering mess once again, and the two had time to catch their breath outside the doors. Thorin and Bilbo both shared amused looks as other students filed into the lecture hall, and Bilbo caught a wry grin from his friend as he went through the door. Bilbo was still trying to catch his breath as he followed Thorin up the stairs and down an empty row of chairs.

The auditorium was almost full, and the professor was still organizing his notes and setting up for the class. He was tall and thin, with fine features but a solemn face. He looked no older than fifty, but his eyes held coldness only age could bring. The professor frowned deeply when the chatter and talking in the room grew louder, and Bilbo decided to boot up his laptop. Thorin impatiently drummed his fingers on the table to his left. The light thumping only stopped when a tall, handsome man stopped to look down at Bilbo.

"Is this seat taken?" his smile was bright as he indicated the seat next to Bilbo. All Bilbo could do was shake his head and check Facebook as the taller man sat.

"Just in time," Bilbo smiled as the professor dimmed the lights to begin the lecture.

"Yeah, I thought I was done for there. Dr. Elrond doesn't take prisoners." the student chuckled as he nodded towards their professor. Bilbo could hear Thorin shift in his seat and tap his fingers on the desk. Bilbo quietly began to type away at his keyboard as Elrond spoke.

"So, what's your program?" His new friend asked, holding his hand out politely, "I'm Bard, by the way."

"Bilbo Baggins," he smiled, taking Bard's rough yet gentle hand, "I'm in english. Maybe I'll write a book one day."

Bard smiled again and faced back towards the prof, "I'm sure you'd be great."

Bilbo blushed a little at this and felt Thorin tapping his feet near to the bottom of his chair. Bilbo quickly stole a glance to the left and found that the flyhalf was nearly bristling, his pen pushed hard to his notebook and his fingers still stabbing at the table. Bilbo focused back on the lecture and made small conversation with Bard until the end of class, all the while listening to Thorin's apparent inner torment. Bard gave Bilbo his number as the three of them walked out, but said he couldn't stay due to a geology class. He scampered off after a gruff introduction with Thorin, who seemed a little more than unimpressed with the second-year. The two then made the trek back to Bag End in silence.

"When did you meet him?" Thorin grumbled and absently kicked a pebble.

"Oh, just today, he's really nice though, he likes rugby and school. I think you'd like him." Bilbo chuckled lightly and looked to the taller man.

"I don't know about that." Thorin scoffed and crossed his arms, almost sulking as they continued down the sidewalk. Bilbo frowned and was about to call Thorin out on his bad mood, but his phone buzzed in his pocket. He fumbled quietly for a moment and found that Kili had messaged him.

_R u coming 2 practice 2nite?_

Bilbo felt Thorin reading the text over his shoulder and turned away. Thorin made a slightly disgruntled noise and attempted to take the phone from Bilbo, who only protested a little bit.

"Thorin! It's just- hey, wait! What are you-" Bilbo was neither fast nor strong enough to escape Thorin's grip, and soon Thorin had managed to wrap his arms around the smaller scrumhalf, his chest pushing against Bilbo's narrow shoulders and back. He slapped Bilbo's hands away clumsily as he replied to Kili's message. After he sent a quick '_yes'_ with no punctuation or proper capitalization, he released his captive and stepped back. Bilbo turned away from Thorin, beginning to feel his face and ears heat up. He didn't dare look at the taller man, but couldn't bring himself to walk away.

Thorin didn't move. He held his arms stiffly at his sides and stared at Bilbo for a long time. After both of their harsh breathing had calmed he chuckled softly, ruffled Bilbo's hair and stalked off.

Bilbo couldn't move either foot. Both were planted in the ground like the roots of some great tree. He blinked at the Thorin's strong figure as he climbed the steps of Bag End and disappeared inside. He had to actively close his mouth before fixing his hair and crossing the road. He took his time in going inside, not wanting to accidentally bump into Thorin at the door and trigger another awkward conversation.

Once he had gotten inside, he found Thorin entertaining Balin, Dwalin and Bofur, who all seemed to have found Bilbo's pop-tarts, and if they noticed that Bilbo had made it into the flat alive, they didn't let on. Thorin was seated in _his_ chair at the end of the table across from Balin. Dwalin was standing behind him and Bofur was perched comfortably on the countertop, munching away at the last of Bilbo's breakfast food. Bilbo tried to sneak past the kitchen without being noticed, but this time he was sadly unable.

"Bilbo!" Dwalin roared through a mouthful of sugary pastry, "I saw you on the field the other day, quick as a rabbit, you were."

"Yeah," Bofur agreed with a smile and a wink, "thought we'd break you into bits in five seconds flat! Turns out we'll have to catch you first." he hopped off of the counter and clapped a hand on Bilbo's back, looking to Thorin proudly.

"I think you were right to keep the little thing." Balin smiled at Bilbo, who fidgeted nervously. Thorin merely grinned dismissively and returned his gaze to Bilbo.

"You're ready for practice?" icy blue eyes met his and Bilbo struggled to find words. For a while he sputtered nonsense, but the just pointed to his room and scuttled out, desperate to escape the obvious stares from all four teammates.

Once he was safely shut into his small cavern, he slowly gathered all of his equipment and folded it neatly into his bag. He couldn't get the creases exactly right, mostly because his hands were shaking too much. He shouldered his bag and examined himself in the mirror, fixing his mop of curls the best he could. Thorin had managed to muss his hair pretty badly, but Bilbo found a way to make it lie somewhat flat. He sighed and stared into his reflection, shoulders sagging a bit. Bilbo had never really considered himself all that attractive. He was small and barely had any muscle on him, with a wiry frame and narrow shoulders. His face, although good-natured, couldn't grow any form of facial hair, he barely shaved once a week. Bilbo ran a hand over his face and came to the conclusion that he was incredibly mediocre.

He opened his door slowly, hoping to not disturb any conversation that may be somewhat private. He slowly crept over to the kitchen, where hushed voices could be heard. The group hadn't noticed Bilbo at all, and Biblo decided to keep himself hidden for the time being. The quietest notable voice was Thorin, a deep, rolling accent and serious tone.

"He clearly needs more time, Thorin. Let him get to know you better." Balin murmured, and Bilbo could hear familiar drumming on the table.

"It's not like I can just talk to him." Thorin mumbled, sounding almost embarrassed. Bilbo narrowed his eyes at this. Who were they talking about? Someone Thorin wanted to get to know better, but surely nobody that he fancied. Thorin was straighter than a. . . Well, straighter than something very straight.

"Why not?" Bofur inquired excitedly, "it doesn't take much, he's quite the sociable fellow."

There was a long silence, and an easily recognized sigh from Thorin, long and melodramatic.

"Don't be intimidated, cap'n." Balin almost cooed, "he doesn't seem _that _scary. After all, he's about the size of-"

"Who isn't that scary?" Bilbo suddenly asked, and stepped into the kitchen, rocking on his heels innocently. The room quickly fell into an eerie silence. Tension slowly built, and for a moment, Thorin would not meet Bilbo's eyes. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was slumped down in his seat, much like a small child playing shy.

"His english professor!" Balin suddenly chuckled, "Professor Elrond is quite intimidating, apparently." as he said it, the three other men in the room seemed to lean closer to Bilbo, eyeing him expectantly. Bilbo fidgeted under their scrutiny, and pulled at the hem of his shirt.

"Well, I guess he's pretty strict, but he seems alright to me." the tension building in the room lifted like fog in the early morning, and Balin exhaled audibly. "I'll be dammed of if somebody's be able to scare Thorin off, they'd have to answer to me!" Bilbo held up his fists and threw a mock jab at Bofur, who laughed a little too loudly and jumped backwards.

"Let's get going." Thorin commanded quietly and stood. His chair scraped against the floor as he pushed it back under the table, and the rest of the players filed out of the flat, Bilbo following behind Thorin. His body seemed rigid and mechanical as he walked, as if he were waiting for someone to jump out and eat him. Eventually Balin stated that he needed to pick his stuff up from his flat, and pulled a sputtering Dwalin along with him. Bofur then murmured something about forgetting his phone and awkwardly left also, leaving Bilbo stranded with their captain.

Bilbo twitched nervously, the silence only broken by Thorin's heavy footsteps on the sidewalk. He seemed unusually quiet as the day developed, and Bilbo began to wonder if he had done something to upset the flyhalf. Of course he wasn't ever really the most pleasant of creatures to begin with, but today he made Bilbo almost worried.

When they finally arrived in the changerooms Thorin stalked off towards the back, and Bilbo decided not to follow him. He merely sat down and pulled off his shoes next to Kili, who talked his ear off about God knows what. He took care not to wrinkle his socks when he folded them and stuffed them into his bag.

The beginning of practice was routine, four laps and then a number of intensive physical activities, including many hand-eye and reflex drills. Most of these left Bilbo feeling exhausted and extremely embarrassed. About halfway through practice two new players strode onto the field, one of them a familiar face. Gandalf made his way over to the two and stopped the players from running.

"Thorin and company, I would like to introduce the final members to our team. This is Beorn," he indicated a humongous man with thick, hardly limbs. He stood at least a head taller than everyone else, and had great paws for hands, "And this is Bard." Bilbo smiled as Bard waved to the crowd almost sheepishly. He looked to be wearing old shorts and a well worn striped rugby shirt, but he looked able. He was leaner than Beorn, with long limbs and smaller hands, a body that was used for speed, rather than power. Most of the team greeted the newcomers with a nod and a smile, but Thorin only sniffed and scowled.

"Five laps. The rest of you, back to your drills."

Bard and Beorn shrugged at each other and jogged off, whilst the rest of the team finished off their routine exorcises. Thorin was unusually strict, scolding for dropping or fumbling the ball when he would normally let it slide. The two on the track barely had enough time to stretch before Thorin began to run a bout of unopposed.

"Beorn! Bombur, Kili, Nori and Dori, I want all of you over there." Thorin vaguely pointed to the opposite end of the field, "I want a scrum on the 22 going in." He handed Bilbo the ball as the rest of the players readied themselves.

"I'm keeping Bard on the left side." he murmured, "I want to see if he's any good. The ball goes to him."

Gandalf acted as the referee once more and initiated the scrum. Ori easily won the draw, and it took mere seconds for the ball to make it back to Dwalin. Bilbo was on it immediately and sent the ball to the left. Bard easily caught it, taking off down the field like a startled deer. The only teammate who could honestly keep up with him was Thorin, and the two dominated in dodging tackles and passing back and forth. Biblo could only watch as Thorin's muscles relaxed and his body move more freely. Even his grin met his eyes as Bard touched the ball down in their endzone. Thorin exchanged an rough handshake and friendly words with Bard in the moments it took to walk back to where the rest of the group had reconvened. There they practiced even more, and Thorin loosened up, actively goofing off with the rest of the team, and especially with his new-found centre. Bard was very good, and Bilbo noticed him and Thorin competing for the ball each and every time they played. Something about it annoyed Bilbo, though he didn't know what.

After another hour of vigorous training, Thorin gathered his players around himself. The group took a knee and fell silent, the only noise from them was the sound of harsh breathing. Even Bard looked a little out of breath.

"Now, in about a week we're taking on the team from the Misty Mountains: The Goblins," a few members whooped and cheered, "So I'd like to take a day to go over plays and tactics. We still need to drill everything into your thick skulls, I may make a good team out of you yet. We've also been able to get a new prop and inside centre, so we won't be worried about subs for long. I'm just glad I've found someone I can actually compete with."

The team laughed as Thorin smirked at Bard, and the captain dismissed the group for the day. The team scattered and began to chat amongst themselves as they all made their way towards the changerooms. Thorin followed closely behind Bilbo, but didn't start a conversation. His presence making the hair on the back of Bilbo's neck stand up. Bard soon caught up and smiled down a Bilbo.

"I didn't know you played," Bard grinned, ruffling Bilbo's damp hair, "and a scrumhalf, no less!"

Bilbo shrugged and laughed along with him, and he tried not to look at Thorin pass the two of them. Again his gait and posture was stiff, but this time more weary. His shoulders and neck rigid as he stalked over to the changerooms.

Bilbo chatted with Bard as they both changed, the two were happy to know more about each other and where they came from. Apparently Bard lived in the city just outside of Erebor, called Laketown. He only moved into residence to get away from his parents. Bard enjoyed listening to Bilbo rant and rave about the Shire, and Bilbo's quaint childhood adventures. It was about noon by the time they emerged from the building, bags in hand.

"So." Bard scratched his ear as they both wandered down the sidewalk, "You wanna go out for lunch? There's a subway just down the road." He looked at Bilbo, who nodded happily. Bard smiled back at Bilbo and patted his shoulder. Bilbo glanced back for a moment and caught sight of Thorin walking back to the flat, alone. Something close to shame whirled in Bilbo's stomach, though he didn't know why. He was only pulled from his guilt by Bard's charismatic laugh.

"The captain's pretty good, isn't he?" the second year asked, walking fast.

Bilbo rushed a little to catch up, and nodded, "Of course! Thorin's the best on our team! It's one of the reasons why he's captain, obviously. Probably because he likes to give orders, too. Not that he's bossy or anything, he's just good at making people listen to him and do what he wants. It's not like I think he's-" Bilbo halted his speech when he saw the overwhelmed and amused expression on Bard's face. He huffed and looked away, crossing his arms over his chest tightly.

Bard chuckled at Bilbo and sighed, "When are you going to ask him out?"

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_Yay. Bard and Bilbo bonding. Hope you enjoyed, sorry about the lack of chapters so far, I'm still trying to get the hang of the characters heheheh. On a sidenote, I hope Bard's from Laketown, because I honestly couldn't remember if he was or not..._


	5. Not at Home

Bard's question left Bilbo flushed a bright pink and sputtering all sorts of incoherent words and excuses. His breath quickened and he pulled at the hem of his shirt, as if he wished to hide himself in it. He wondered if it were possible to just curl up inside like a turtle, and wait for the dander to pass.

"W-well, I'm not. . . That is, I don't know I. . .I shouldn't-" He was only stopped when Bard held up a hand. He then turned towards the doors of the subway, and Bard held one open as Bilbo strode into the busy restaurant. The line wasn't terribly long, but not short enough to keep Bard from questioning him as they waited. Bilbo twitched nervously as they stood in line, afraid to say any more as to humiliate himself even further.

"Don't worry, the way you talk about him, it's like some old girlfriend or lifelong crush," Bard seemed to notice the panicked expression on Bilbo's face, and tried to remedy the looming emotional disaster, "it isn't obvious, though. At least to your teammates."

Bilbo sighed when Bard told him this, somewhat relieved at the prospect of nobody knowing. He knew if anybody on the team so much as heard about Bilbo's little predicament, he would never be able to see the light of day again, especially from Fili and Kili. Bilbo also didn't want to even think about what would happen if Thorin ever found out. But now that Bard knew it was only a matter of time, "Y-you won't-"

Bard shook his head, "No, I wouldn't do that to you, though I might just have to help you out." Bard winked at Bilbo and turned to order his meal.

Once the two of them paid for their food, they decided to walk back to Bilbo's flat and eat there, maybe review some english notes and as Bard put it 'form a plan of action." At least Bilbo wouldn't have to deal with Thorin alone.

"Um, what did you say about me 'needing help?'" Bilbo squeaked as they trudged back down the sidewalk.

"Help you, y'know, with your romantic situation," Bard winked again, and demonstrated with two exaggerated pelvic thrusts, "you, my friend, need to get laid."

If it was possible for Bilbo's face to turn any redder, it did, and for a moment, he was speechless. Bilbo was always considered a bit of a prude, but in reality he had never found the right way to ask someone out. Girls made him fidgety and nervous, whereas boys had never really crossed his mind. At least, not until now. He always thought of chasing after someone you admired slightly unnecessary and shameful, let alone a 6'2'' flyhalf that looked as if he wanted to snap you in half.

"I- I hardly think that it's appropriate. . ." Bilbo stammered.

"To do what? To date some super hot guy that _happens _to be the captain of your rugby team? Come on, Bilbo, you sound like my grandmother." Bard laughed and clapped a hand on Bilbo's shoulders as the two of them finally climbed the steps of Bag End. Bilbo smiled sheepishly but didn't answer.

Bilbo expected the the flat to be either deserted or full of loud rugby players when he got there, but instead he heard the sound of high-pitched, hollow laughter coming from the kitchen. He instructed Bard to toe off his shoes and quickly turned to investigate the people in the kitchen. There he found Thorin, who glanced up at Bilbo from his laptop briefly, his face as stony as ever. There was also a tall, thin blonde girl in a tight, low cut top and _very _short shorts. Her eyelashes and lips were too big and her nails were painted pink, all perfectly manicured. What was worse was that she was seated close enough to the laptop to be pressing into Thorin, while still able to innocently look at whatever they were looking at without abuse. Thorin was sitting normally enough, if not a bit uncomfortably, his face drawn and hands brought together in front of him. Bilbo shifted on his feet nervously and cleared his throat.

Thorin coughed band shot Bilbo a slightly annoyed look, "Angie, this is Bilbo, my flatmate. Bilbo, Angie, we were going over some english notes together." Thorin spoke stiffly, almost as if he was nervous. It was odd, seeing him speak as if he were making a bad excuse for his parents or something. Angie turned and flicked her eyes over Bilbo, making a face.

"He's smaller than you said."

Bilbo smiled awkwardly and blinked. He felt Bard tug on Bilbo's sleeve in reassurance, and Bilbo found the courage to try and speak.

"Um, nice to meet you. . . S-so you two are, like. . ?"

"_No._" Thorin almost shouted, and Angie jumped back slightly. After a moment Thorin seemed to check himself and sigh, "No, we just met today. She suggested we study for a bit after practice."

Bilbo nodded as he watched Angie almost slither back to Thorin's side, and tried to hide clenched fists. He set his jaw and swallowed.

"Well, Bard and I are going over some notes as well, so I'll give you two some _privacy." _he noticed a pleading look on Thorin's face before grabbing Bard's sleeve and retreated to his bedroom. Once the door was closed he sat Bard down on his bed and frantically began pacing back and forth.

"Bilbo, calm down." Bard nearly chuckled as Bilbo began to compulsively tidy his room.

"She can't! He wouldn't like her! She doesn't even know him at all! He's-"

"_Bilbo."_ Bard stood and grabbed his friend by the shoulders. Bilbo gave Bard an exasperated look before settling down on his own bed and wringing his hands nervously. He sputtered all of his neurotic mumbling and rants at Bard, who listened, nodding and giving imputed when necessary. It wasn't until Bilbo was done with his speech, when Bard decided to talk.

"You've never dated anyone before, haven't you?" Bard asked almost gently, a smirk pulling at his lips. Bilbo could only blush furiously and mutter apologies.

A knock at the door silenced them both, and Bilbo stood to open it. He hesitated for a moment, but slowly turned the handle and peeked around the door. He tensed and gripped the knob tightly, as if he were shielding himself from a feral animal. Thorin stood in the doorframe, leaning on one of his elbows for support. He fixed Bilbo with one of his glares again, cold eyes sparkling a deep blue as he scratched his unshaven chin.

"We're out of milk." he said in a low voice, which only made Bilbo squirm even more. The frigid gaze seemed to shift into something less threatening, and Bilbo felt his mouth go dry.

"Well, it's getting late, and I've got a class tonight! I, uh, I have to go." Bard quickly jumped up from where he was seated and nodded at Thorin, who reciprocated. He then pushed past the flyhalf at the door and winked at Bilbo, actively showing himself out. Thorin merely watched as Bard closed the door behind him, and Bilbo made himself a mental note to sentence his friend to death, under the charge of treason and desertion.

"You could just go over notes with me, if you wanted to," Thorin spoke carefully, "he didn't have to come over."

Bilbo scoffed at Thorin's hypocrisy, but didn't call him out on it, "I invited him because he's my friend."

Thorin bristled at Bilbo's defense, but relaxed slightly after mulling it over. He tried to play it cool and cross his arms over his chest, leaning back slightly, "Are you angry with me?"

Bilbo barked out a laugh at the irony in Thorin's question. Thorin Oakenshield, the grumpiest thing to ever exist, was asking _Bilbo Baggins _ if he was angry, "No, I'm not mad! Why would I be mad? It's not like you've done anything wrong. You haven't made me mad, I mean, she's pretty and all but come _on._"

Bilbo's rant was halted by two huge hands that managed to engulf his shoulders. Thorin's face was much closer to Bilbo's, eyes searching for attention. Bilbo stiffened and turned red up to his ears, face _very _hot all of a sudden. Thorin's eyes were icy blue, however, and Bilbo could _feel _the taller man's breath on his mouth.

"She is nobody." Thorin rumbled, almost inaudible. He squeezed Bilbo's shoulders reassuringly, but didn't move. Bilbo nodded and looked away, feeling a little embarrassed that Thorin discovered his contempt. He caught Thorin looking for a moment longer than necessary, but then he was released. Thorin drew himself back up to his full height and Bilbo sighed.

The two stood quietly, unmoving and looking everywhere but at each other. Bilbo balled his hands into fists at his sides, desperately trying to calm his fluttering heartbeat. Thorin still examined him from the door, as if he were waiting for something to happen. He crossed his arms over his chest impatiently and Bilbo shifted on his feet.

"I'll shower first." Thorin growled, turning on his heels and trudging to the bathroom. Bilbo didn't follow, instead he checked his messages, all of them from Bard.

_Sorry, there was just too much awkward. _

_You'll thank me later. ;)_

_You two are making out right now, aren't you?_

Bilbo blushed at the thought of having certain liaisons with a certain athlete, and then sent a furious text back. He sat on his bed awkwardly afterwards and listened to Thorin shower. He felt something rise in the pit of his stomach as his imagination ran away with him, the sensation warm and pleasant. He was quick to shove it back down once he realized what it was. He stood and began to collect his dirty laundry, absently picking up Thorin's garments off of the floor in his own cave. The small man quickly hustled out of the flat with the laundry basket, and had a small row with the washing machine before adding detergent. Bilbo wasn't sure if Thorin used his own kind of soap, but come to think of it, Bilbo wasn't sure if Thorin washed his clothes at all. Bilbo elected to just use his own instead of asking.

After winning another battle with the dryer, Bilbo decided to go back upstairs and eat the food that he and Bard had never managed to enjoy. He was halfway through the door when his phone buzzed, a message from Fili popped up on his screen.

_Who's this Bard guy? New boyfriend or something?_

Bilbo was halfway through fumbling to text him back while closing the door when something caught his eye. He leaned on the back of the green door and looked up from his unfinished message and gaped openly. Thorin Oakenshield was standing in the open door of the bathroom with nothing but a _very _small towel hanging from his hips. He was turned away from Bilbo, exposing a sleek and toned back, still damp from the shower. His posture told Bilbo that he didn't know that the scrumhalf had re-entered the flat, somewhat less coiled and stiff.

Bilbo tore his eyes away and looked down at his phone, fingers feebly trying to press the large _Send _button. His eyes widened as he found himself unable to control his now clumsy hands, as the phone quickly slipped from his seized hands. The mobile clattered loudly onto the floor, and Thorin turned to Bilbo, seeming to bristle.

The taller man's hair was wet and stuck to his forehead, every so often dripping large beads of water down his neck and chest. He hadn't shaved yet, so his stubble darkened his solemn and sharp features. His eyes still glittered brightly, almost as cold as the chill that ran from the base of Bilbo's neck to his toes. It took a moment before he realized that Thorin was speaking to him, and he could only stare at him, dumbstruck.

"What?" he blinked, lips barely forming the words.

"You took my clothes." Thorin repeated, raising an eyebrow.

Bilbo pursed his lips for a moment and blinked, nodding slightly, "I took the dirty ones off of your floor and washed them. . ."

"All of them," Thorin's voice sounded slightly annoyed, but had some sort of lighter tone added to it, almost playful, "You used your own soap?"

"Yes, we'll, sorry. If you'd like I could-"

"No, it's. . . Fine." Thorin nodded, cutting off Bilbo hurriedly.

Bilbo swallowed and darted his tongue out to wet his lips. His mouth was already so dry, his throat almost closing in on itself. Though he was absolutely and completely uncomfortable, he couldn't allow Thorin to know. He tried to keep himself from reading into the long and piercing stares from his flatmate, as if he were watching his every movement. Bilbo didn't fidget or wring his hands at all, but instead he merely stood paralyzed like a rabbit, and waited for Thorin to finish observing him.

When Thorin said nothing, and merely crossed his arms over his chest, Bilbo began to sweat a little. He absently pulled at the hem of his jumper and bit his lip.

His phone rattled against the floor, but neither party moved. The flyhalf voice broke the silence, making Bilbo jump.

"The team's going up to the Green Dragon for a coupl'a pints tonight. You want to come?"

It may have been the way Thorin had said it, or maybe the hopeful plea in his eye that changed Bilbo's mind. Every other offer to go out, either drinking or to some wild party, had made Bilbo scoffed and refuse politely. Today, however, Bilbo was able to feign confidence, look Thorin in the eye, and nodded curtly.

Thorin nodded back, his expression seeming to loosen before he turned to examine his stubble in the mirror. Bilbo looked away awkwardly and tried to ignore the tattoos decorating Thorin's back. The shapes were bold and geometric, with odd patterns and textures about them. His phone buzzed on the floor again and Bilbo jumped to get it. Both messages were from Fili again.

_I guess your silence means yes?_

_So I just asked Bard, and he said no. Is he lying? He sounded mischievous. _

Bilbo scoffed and sat himself down on the couch, tapping away at his phone.

_No, he's not lying. Just remind me to kill him later, though. _

"Don't forget the laundry." Thorin all but growled from the sink, and Bilbo seized the opportunity to escape the stuffy flat. He slammed the door a little to hard and leaned up against it, sighing with relief. Bilbo closed his eyes and tried to remember the last time he had gone drinking, but couldn't. Also judging from his size, he wouldn't be able to hold his liquor well either.

Bilbo cursed himself and his mother's bold side of the family, and realized that he had made a grave mistake.


	6. Out of the Frying Pan

Hey guys! Sorry for the long hiatus but midterms and University in general is being a huge party pooper. Again thanks for all the awesome reviews! I can't believe you are all real people. Hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it! Sorry if it's short, it's all I can do for now.

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Bilbo let out an exasperated sigh as he looked himself over in the mirror once more. He had changed his clothes and attempted to fix his hair at least four times before settling on some dark jeans and a striped jumper. He pulled at the hem of his shirt, still not knowing what to do with his mess of curls. Thorin had told him it wasn't anything special, that he didn't need to worry about what he wore, which made Bilbo fret about having to look like he wasn't trying. Bilbo flattened one more loose curls and gave up, sighing again and sent a text to Bard.

_He's taking me to a bar and I don't know what to do! What do I wear? _

Bilbo slowly inched out of the safety in his room, listening for any sort of movement. Thorin had quickly taken all of his clean (and neatly folded) laundry once Bilbo was done with the washing. He then lumbered back to his own room without a word. Judging by the noises coming from the kitchen, the flyhalf was ready to leave, and enjoying some pre-party meal. Bilbo paused for a moment, startling when his phone buzzed.

_Ooh! A date already? Did he finally ask you out or did you work up the courage?_

Bilbo blushed at Bard's reply and immediately responded.

_I wouldn't call it a date. Just a few drinks with the team. _

Bilbo pocketed his mobile and slowly crept down the hallway towards the kitchen. There he found a well-dressed Thorin picking at some Chinese food, face still unshaven. Another unopened box stood across the table from the captain, and Bilbo sat in front of it.

Thorin nodded at Bilbo and continued with his meal nonchalantly. Bilbo fumbled with the box and his phone went off again. He managed a mouthful of noodles before checking it.

_Haha I know, I'm coming too. I doubt he really cares about what clothes you wear, bet he mostly imagines you with them off, anyway. _

Bilbo's jaw dropped and his face turned pink. He stabbed at his phone's keyboard in response and sent the retaliation back, all but throwing the device across the table when he was finished.

Bilbo looked up and smiled at Thorin, who did nothing but raise an eyebrow and continue checking his own phone. Bilbo scratched his head and looked away, even more embarrassed than he was before. Thorin sighed and stood, tossing his empty box in the garbage.

"Almost ready?" he grumbled, making his way towards the door.

Bilbo processed for a moment, still a little shaken up from Bard's message. "You're not going to shave?" he blurted out before he could think.

And hand ran over thick stubble on Thorin's face, and something close to disappointment presented itself. "You don't like it?"

"No, it's not that, I actually like your face a lot right now." Thorin raised his eyebrows once more, and Bilbo panicked quickly after realizing what he had said. "I mean, you don't have to shave if you don't want to. It's your choice. Your stubble is yours to deal with. I am completely indifferent to what you do to it. Don't listen to me."

Bilbo caught Thorin rolling his eyes as he headed over to the door and toed on his shoes. His keys jingled when Bilbo approached the door as well.

The ride in Thorin's truck was quiet when they sped down the road. The pub seemed to be quite a ways from campus and deeper into the downtown area. The sky darkened and made everything looked completely unfamiliar. All Bilbo could do was fidget in his seat and wring his hands nervously.

The bar itself took up a small streetcorner, the neon sign of a green and red dragon slithered above the doorway, smirking at him. Bilbo was surprised at the stillness of the street, the weather was good, yet nobody was out at all. Even the windows to most apartments and houses were dark, almost eerie. The inside, however was warm and bursting with life. Most of the team was already lined up at the Bar and laughing loudly. The others looked just as jolly as well. There were three large men sitting at at table arguing about the best way to cook lamb.

The group at the bar cheered when they noticed Bilbo and Thorin's arrival, and the captain exchanged various greetings individually. Bilbo made the mistake of perching himself between Fili and Kili, who descended on him like a flock of giggling birds. Both of them looked at the scrumhalf as if they were expecting something, beers in hand.

"This one didn't think you'd show up." Fili indicated his younger brother, who merely laughed.

"Not with your _date." _he smirked and nodded towards Thorin, who was across the bar. "Thought you'd be hiding away in your little hole."

Bilbo flushed and fidgeted, "It's not a date!" he retorted, and the two brothers looked at him with something between amusement and dread on their faces.

"What's not a date?" a low voice rumbled from behind him. He turned and saw Thorin standing almost mock-irritated, arms crossed and head cocked to the side. Bilbo swallowed before trying to speak.

"N-nothing." he choked, and Thorin shrugged. Fili stood and left his stool to sit on the other side of Kili, who also visibly shrunk as Thorin drew near. The captain sat in the stool and ushered the bartender over to where they sat.

"What would you like to drink?" Thorin's voice alone seemed to silence the room. The whole bar seemed to lean in as if to judge Bilbo's response. The stillness amongst such loud a company was almost eerie.

"I'll, um, just a water, please."

The room erupted with laughter at the answer, and a small shotglass was handed to him, a brown liquid inside. Fili and Kili both shared a mischievous look as Dwalin nearly forced the beverage down Bilbo's throat. The scrumhalf had no choice but to down the shot in one gulp.

His eyes widened as the liquid seared down his throat and bloomed in his stomach and chest. He felt tears well up on his eyelashes as he made a face, at which the rest of the company roared and cheered. The group all fell silent and downed their own drinks. Bard found his way over to Bilbo and Thorin disappeared to socialize once more.

"So how's the date going?" he asked casually, ordering another drink for Bilbo.

"It is _not _a date." Bilbo flushed and glanced over at Thorin, who seemed to be winning an arm wrestling match with Bofur.

A bright blue liquid came to him in a tall glass, and all he could do was stare at it for a moment. Bard seemed to notice Bilbo's hesitation and chuckled.

"A pornstar." he smiled and slid it closer, "You'd like it."

Bilbo carefully took a sip and gulped down the sweet liquid, leaving a pleasant feeling on his tongue. He smiled at Bard gratefully and the chugged the rest. Bard laughed openly, louder than usual, and Bilbo couldn't help but giggle as well, feeling oddly giddy. Fili and Kili then materialized behind Bilbo and ordered another round of shots, which Bilbo couldn't refuse. After all, a Baggins is always polite.

"Here's to having a great shag with the captain." Kili murmured and clumsily touched glasses with Bilbo, who blushed, but didn't retort. He gulped down the second shot easier than the first, and he smiled when it hit his belly. He looked over to Thorin, who looked oddly sober compared to the rest of the fumbling group. He unabashedly began to stare as Fili grabbed his shoulder.

"Poor sod doesn't know what he's missing." the blonde breathed more than spoke into his ear. "Says he doesn't like to get drunk at all."

Thorin caught the scrumhalf staring and Bilbo smiled at him, felling a lot less shy than before. Bilbo then cooly ordered another pornstar from the bartender as he noticed his captain making his way down the bar. The drink came rather quickly, and he had already finished half of it before Thorin was able to sit down.

"You better slow down." Thorin smirked, though his words sounded serious. His brow was creased with worry and his eyes searched Bilbo's. Bilbo only laughed and downed the rest of his drink.

"I like pornstars." Bilbo giggled as he swayed in his chair. "Especially the sweet ones!"

Thorin gave him a genuinely confused look, and if Bilbo though that the flyhalf couldn't blush he was wrong. "I. . ." Thorin began, but couldn't find anything to say. Bilbo then threw a laughing fit and almost fell off of his stool. Thorin helped right him by laying a hand on Bilbo's arm, and the smaller scrumhalf finally stilled.

"Are you my babysitter?" Bilbo suddenly asked, poking Thorin's chest playfully.

"Uh,"

Bilbo closed his eyes and shook his head, "No, no. Don't answer that. You don't have to." Bilbo then slid off of his stool carefully and stumbled into the bathroom to relieve himself. He noticed how red his face was in the grimy bathroom mirror as he made his way along the wall towards the urinal. He chuckled at how silly he looked.

Once he was finished, he clumsily washed his hands and wiped them on his pants. Before he could turn to leave, he felt a massive hand rest on his shoulder.

"Now looket what I've got 'ere." A thick cockney accent grumbled, and Bilbo turned to see three overweight and greasy men looming over him.

"Now 'aint he a little thing, eh, Burt?" Another said, reaching to pull at Bilbo's curly hair. Bilbo stifled a cry and slowly slapped at the intruder's hand. He tried to tell the three to leave, but the combination of fear and alcohol reduced it to a quiet gurgle.

"Wha'd he say, Bill? The li'l mouse got his tongue in a knot!" Burt chuckled, drawing a little too close. Bilbo backed up until he found himself cornered by the back wall. The three men still drew near.

"Hey, Tom? How's about a bit of fun with this one?" Birthday asked as Tom nodded, smirking darkly.

"Um," was all Bilbo could manage before a pair of firm arms grabbed him by the shoulders and lifted him off the ground.

"You what?" Burt almost growled, squeezing his shoulders until he cried out. Bilbo could feel his head spinning and his tongue wagging for words, but he could think of none. All Bilbo could do was sag helplessly as the man leaned in even closer to Bilbo's face and sneered.

"What's all this?" a familiar, authoritative voice all but roared from the door. All three men turned and looked behind them, forgetting the small scrumhalf that was dropped to the floor.

"Jus' a bit o' fun, eh, Tom?" Burt held out his hands at a seething Thorin Oakenshield.

"Right right. We don't mean no harm, honest!"

With clenched fists and cold eyes, Thorin nodded stiffly towards the door, and the three assailants scrambled to escape. Bilbo watched them leave before noticing he was trembling. His knees gave out and he sunk to the cold tile, staring into his shaking palms. His heart hurt it was beating so fast, and his breathing increased, making his head spin.

A large hand curled around one of Bilbo's wrists and he looked up, somewhat startled. His eyes met with frosty blue, and an unshaven face. Thorin looked sympathetic, kneeling in front of Bilbo with an impossibly gentle touch, but something close to rage boiled in his eyes. The grip on his wrist tightened.

"We're going home." He growled gently, pulling Bilbo to a standing position and all but carrying him out of the bathroom. Bilbo didn't protest, a little to intoxicated and shaken up to try and resist. Another large hand found its way around Bilbo's waist once he put an arm over Thorin's shoulder. He tried to ignore his entire side pressed up against the flyhalf, no less the heat he was emitting. His hand gripped tighter at the material of Thorin's t-shirt, and Thorin squeezed his hip in reassurance.

The rest of the team was still roaring on and arguing with the bartender about being cut off. Dwalin had somehow ended up standing on the bar clutching an entire bottle of liquor, whereas Fili and Kili were giggling like fools behind him. Bard only noticed them leaving when Bilbo nearly tripped and fell, and winked promiscuously at him before turning back to his conversation.

Thorin managed to stuff Bilbo into the front seat of his truck before jamming his keys into the ignition. Bilbo sagged onto the door and let his head rest on the cool window. He tried to apologize for the trouble but it just came out a muffled jumble of syllables. Thorin hummed in response but didn't answer. Bilbo liked that. Bilbo closed his eyes with blaring streetlights and a rumbling engine the last things on his thoughts.

The next thing Bilbo remembered was darkness of night and the warmth of a bed and blankets. He noticed that his clothes were still on and very uncomfortable. Without opening his eyes he pulled off his shirt and pants, leaving nothing but his boxers and socks on for pajamas. He hummed contentedly, and turned to nuzzle into the warmth beside him. He didn't question the hand that curled around him and began carding through his hair lazily, in response he merely wrapped his own arms around the mass of heat and sighed. He smiled, enjoying the scent of earthy cologne and his own detergent. Again Bilbo slept, feeling his muscles slowly relax into the body beside him.

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And there it is. Thanks a bunch for reading! Promise next post won't be so delayed. Truly, you guys rock.


	7. Into the Fire

_I'd just like to tell everybody who has reviewed must be sent from heaven itself! You guys are all so nice and gentle with me, and all deserve faster and quicker updates! Thanks for faving and being generally amazing. Love you guys! _

This chapter might be a little boring, (there's little to no Thorin in it) but I couldn't find a good way to write him in properly. It'll be waaaaay better next chapter. Promise!

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Bilbo first noticed the giant headache when he awoke. He groaned softly without opening his eyes, trying not to contribute to the pain. He brought his hands over his face, mostly to keep the light from shining through his eyelids. For a moment he was still, and tried to remember where he was. His bed felt sloppy and unmade, and smelled earthier. He let his hand fall to a very empty space next to him. His eyes shot opened as memories of the previous night flooded in. He remembered drinking quite a bit, going to the bathroom and then an altercation with Burt, Bill and Tom. Thorin stepped in, drove him home and. . .

Bilbo felt something between horror and arousal stir in the pit of his stomach. Cloudy memories of a warm body and soft breathing slowly resurfaced, and it was all Bilbo could do to keep himself from throwing up. He looked to his left and slowly began to realize that he was still in Thorin's bed, though the flyhalf was nowhere to be seen. The room itself was very clean, despite the piles of laundry folded neatly in a basket. Bilbo was almost surprised at seeing the room so immaculate.

Ignoring the ache in his head, Bilbo stood and stumbled to the kitchen, where he found a packet of aspirin and a glass of water waiting for him on the table. The flat was silent, so Bilbo figured Thorin was already off to an early morning class. He gulped down two pills with a grimace and elected to check his phone. He found his mobile still in the pocket of his discarded pants by Thorin's bed, and turned it on. He only had a couple of messages from Bard, some of which looked as if his friend was intoxicated when he wrote them.

_heyt u okkacy? _

_Goodt hing u lft sum guys wer maekin fights_

_Hey, sorry. I heard about last night? Are you alright? You aren't in class and Thorin isn't saying anything. _

Bilbo gulped and checked the time. It was later than expected.

Bilbo Baggins was late for class.

Before he even realized that he had put his clothes back on, Bilbo was out the door and down the steps of Bag-End. He checked his watch as he sprinted down the road towards his english class. He was already 20 minutes late. He didn't stop running until he reached the door to his lecture hall. There he took a moment to compose himself, heave in two large gulps of air, and then push himself through the doors.

The hall was silent when he entered, Elrond was now glaring at him from the podium. Bilbo felt his face redden as he searched the crowd for his friends. He caught Bard casually raising a hand to wave him over, so Bilbo quickly scuttled up the stairs. He sat and dumped his things onto the table beside Bard, who gave him a questioning look.

"You okay? You look exhausted."

Bilbo scoffed and opened his laptop. "Well, I do have the biggest headache ever, and I sprinted here from my flat, not to mention I ended up-"

He was suddenly interrupted by something kicking the side of his chair. He snuck a glance to his left and found Thorin, who seemed to be listening to the lecture with a new-found intensity. Bilbo could only turn pink and stiffen. He slowly turned to Bard,who was looking at him expectantly.

"What?" Bard asked. Bilbo looked at his hands and fidgeted.

"I, um, I ended up vomiting on the carpet!" Bard's eyes narrowed suspiciously as Bilbo bit his lip.

"You threw up?"

"Yes! Exactly. I threw up." Bimbo quickly began to take notes, and much to his relief, Bard didn't question him any further. The class simply went on without conversation. Elrond droned on about proper thesis statements, giving Bilbo the odd glare every so often. Finally, after about forty-five minutes, the class was dismissed.

Bilbo turned to greet Thorin, but found that he was already halfway down the stairs on the other side of their row. Bard raised an eyebrow at him and Bilbo shrugged innocently. He felt a little relieved, being able to avoid his problem without trying. Bard suggested they go to Starbucks and Bilbo agreed.

He said nothing as they walked to the shop, Bilbo was worried that something would accidentally slip out and he would be exposed. Bard only smiled at him as they finally made it to the store. They ordered quickly and sat in a two person table. Bilbo nervously sipped on his lemonade and Bard waited for his coffee to cool off.

"So," Bard began, taking a sip and swallowing, "did you at least use a condom?"

Bilbo choked on his lemonade and nearly spat it all over the table. Bard seemed completely serious with the question, which made Bilbo blush even more.

"I-he-I can't even-what?!" he sputtered, making Bard lean back in his chair and almost sneer.

"Really? You think I can't tell when something's happened? He wouldn't even _look_ at you today."

Bilbo blinked, "He looks at me?"

"Yeah, does he ever." Bard exhaled loudly, "The way a bear looks at her cubs. But anyway, not the point. I can't believe he took advantage of you like that."

Bilbo pursed his lips and held up a hand. "Um, no. It's not like that. Trust me."

Bard made a face. "then why's momma bear so upset?"

"Well, I may have, um, ended up sleeping in his bed. . . With him in it?" Bilbo fidgeted with his straw as he saw Bard's concerned face, brow furrowed and eyes serious.

"You didn't take any clothes off. You didn't do anything?" Bard cocked his head to the side as Bilbo looked hesitant to answer. Bilbo thought for a moment, honestly trying to remember past him being hot.

"I don't think so." he finally answered, feeling somewhat self-satisfied.

"You don't think so." Bard repeated, widening his eyes and focusing on Bilbo's shirt. His voice sounded almost sarcastic.

Bilbo looked down to see what Bard was indicating. It took him a moment to realize what was wrong. His black shirt seemed a little too big for him, and carried a strangely familiar scent. He touched the material and recognized the texture. Though he didn't know the garment from being on his own skin. He remembered the feel from a lazy, intoxicated hand that gripped for purchase and gentle arms helping him into the truck.

Bilbo swallowed. _Oh god. _He was wearing Thorin's shirt.

"I, um, I have to go." Bilbo nearly tipped over the table when he stood, and Bard had to actually reach for his drink to keep it from spilling. The scrumhalf didn't apologize or grab his own cup before he was out the door. Bard shook his head, but didn't go after his friend.

Bilbo sprinted back to Bag-End, feeling panic rise in his throat. He curled inwards because he could feel everyone's eyes on him, they knew. Bilbo saw dark storm clouds loom overhead and the wind picked up. Students all began to rush for cover inside the condos as thunder rumbled its warning.

They _knew_.

Bilbo made it to the stairs of Bag-End before it had begun to rain. He rushed up the steps and inside, but halted before he touched the brass doorknob. All he could do was grasp the cold metal gingerly and stare at it for a long moment. What was he going to say? What was Thorin going to say? He closed his eyes and imagined the floor collapsing and swallowing him up, or perhaps wolves materializing out of thin air to consume him whole. Each scenario sounded a lot better than whatever was inside his flat.

Instead, the door opened, causing Bilbo to jump back and cry out.

"Oi, laddie! Didn't mean to give you a start there!" Bofur cackled and yanked the catatonic scrumhalf into his flat. "I was just about to give up on you and head off. Thorin told me to wait and tell you about practice tonight."

Bilbo shifted on his feet and crossed his arms. He glanced out the window and into the darkened street. "But it's thundering outside."

Bofur scoffed, "Rain can't hurt ya!" he prodded Bilbo's chest with a stout finger. Bilbo allowed himself to stumble back a bit, fighting back a grin.

At this point in his life, Bilbo had learned when to pick a fight and when to accept the fact that everyone in the building had a key to his flat and they would drag him along on every adventure possible. He also learned to never trust old grey men with a twinkle in their eyes. All Bilbo did was roll his eyes and trudge to his room to collect his equipment. The scrumhalf was relieved to find his room as he had left it, noting that the bed was still made. He grabbed his readily-packed bag and checked himself in the mirror. There were noticeably dark circles under his eyes and his hair was a rumpled mess. He sighed and tried to flatten the mop of curls offending his head, and absently wondered where Thorin was.

He blushed at remembering last night's events. What if Thorin _had _taken advantage of him? What if Bilbo had done or said something to upset his flyhalf?

Bilbo's eyes widened. That's why he sent Bofur to collect him. Bilbo had done something stupid and now Thorin hates him for it. He had scared off his flat mate and now Thorin couldn't even look at him. All Bilbo could do was stare at his reflection in horror. A knock quickly sounded at the door and he barely moved.

"Um, Bilbo? You alright in there? I promised the captain I wouldn't be late."

Bilbo swallowed and balled his hands into fists. He quickly ripped Thorin's shirt from his body and stuffed himself into his practice jersey. After fixing his face in the mirror to feign confidence once again, he opened the door to a waiting Bofur.

He mouth was so dry he could barely speak, "Let's go."

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Thanks for all the reviews and everything! Thanks fro reading too. See y'all soon!


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